


A Letter Between Gus and Himself

by Jacinta



Category: Abney Park, Psych
Genre: Concussions, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacinta/pseuds/Jacinta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gus and his younger self get a rare oppurtunity to chat and Gus realises there are a few things wrong with his life. Shawn explains at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter Between Gus and Himself

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge I set myself for a Psych fic, 1000 words to whatever song came on next. "A Letter Between A Little Boy and Himself as an Adult" by Abney Park seems too good to be true but that's what I got. I own neither, merely express my love of both band and show.

**_Dear Mr Burton Guster,_ **

The letter began in the unmistakably shaky handwriting of a young child, the red crayon merely confirmed this; Gus frowned at the paper for a second before recognizing it as his own handwriting. After a longer moment of consideration he decided he must have written this when he was eight.

**_One day I’ll be you and although I’m only eight now, you need to hear my rules. Never stop playing, never stop dreaming and be careful not to turn into what I’d hate. Shawn can be annoying but Mrs Cooper said he balances me, and I him. I’m not sure why she was encouraging me to abandon studying but I’m hoping you might know._ **

Under the words that were clearly influenced by Shawn there were lines. Unsure why but knowing that he _had_ to reply Gus looked around for a writing implement. Immediately to his right was a small box of crayola crayons, red being notably absent. Tsking at the lousy service here Gus decided on a blue crayon and leant forward, smoothing the paper over the clean, white linoleum.  

**_Dear little me,_ **

Gus began as a feeling of foolishness crept up inside him. Shaking his head he pressed on anyway.

**_I’m doing my best up here but it’s a thankless job and nobody feels the same. I work long hours, both for the pharmaceuticals company I work for and the Psych agency. Being a private detective is hard work, and it doesn’t pay very well, especially when Shawn is the detective. Sorry ‘psychic’ detective. I still think that his insane ideas are going to get us in serious trouble but he insists that he can talk his way out of anything. I watch my credit rating, pay my taxes and prepare to die._ **

It was melodramatic, Gus decided as he sat up straighter and reviewed his work, and the crayon made it look clumsy but it got his point across. Shawn was forever getting him into dangerous situations where he might die before getting to enjoy the retirement fund he’d set up for himself.  This latest stunt of his ended up with men with guns surrounding them. For some reason he knew not to continue that lie of thought any further but rather to wait in silence. Not sure what he was waiting for he surveyed the almost painfully white room and found there was no furniture and a door in the corner. The paper rustled drawing his attention to the fresh red crayon message under his.

**_Hey Mr Me_ **

Gus chuckled at his younger self’s form of address to himself.

**_That can’t be what my life is like! You have to be kidding me! I’ve read some books and I’ve seen some movies so I have an idea of what I’m talking about. Life should be exciting, and sometimes scary, like Mr Spencer’s. His partner told us of a high speed car chase he was involved in the other day and while it’s not safe it certainly sounded fun. What you’re describing doesn’t seem worth the time, boring and safe. Does anything fun ever happen?_ **

Gus frowned. High speed chases were extremely dangerous and he drove a company car, he should hope nothing of the sort ever happened! Lifting his blue crayon Gus considered how to reply but found himself thinking more first. Life in books and movies did seem cooler, even when there were high speed chases it seemed safer and almost fun, in a scary way. Shawn would completely agree with his younger self but someone had to be the voice of reason and Gus knew that was him. Exciting, the way his red-crayon wielding younger self meant it, was dangerous ad could only lead to disaster. Then again there had to be some kind of middle ground between high speed car chases and getting a new doctor on his route that was still exciting but wasn’t as dangerous as some of Shawn’s worse ideas could be. His life was dull, work with Shawn was fun but he had to worry about money and safety all the time. Maybe he could work to find that breed of excitement, indulge Shawn a little more often.

**_Hey little me_ **

Gus wrote, still thinking of ways he could take more risks and have more fun without flirting with death and financial ruin.

**_I think you’re right, I think I’ve lost track of a few priorities in my life so far. I’m going to drop that boring life and move on. I still have to keep money and safety in mind but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun. Life should be an adventure, like Shawn seems to have with every new job or case he gets. I’m stealing back my soul, being a responsible and safe man has wasted too many years now. I’m awake._ **

Gus felt the room fading, though he didn’t know how he could tell that.

_I’m awake._

He repeated, whatever was happening he wouldn’t fight it, it would be his first adventure.

_I’m awake._

“You’re awake! Gus!” Shawn shouted somewhere nearby, he didn’t sound scared or desperate so it mustn’t be urgent. Gus took his time opening his eyes to look at his best friend. “We have matching concussions!” Shawn cheered and clutched his head with a slight wince.

“I nearly lost my soul.” Gus croaked, grateful for the ice chip Shawn handed him with an interested look. “Now I’m awake.” Gus said, voice clearer as a thumping in his head decided to assert itself.

“Dude you are so telling me your concussion dream once I tell you how we got out of there.”

“Wait. Shawn.” Gus grew a bit agitated but the drugs kept it mild. “Was ‘there’ surrounded by angry men with guns?” Gus cursed as he realised the letter between himself and his younger self was a dream.

“Duh. Don’t you want to hear about my fabulous moment of triumph...” Gus tuned Shawn out and whispered.

_“I’m awake.”_

 


End file.
